


I can remember a song

by orphan_account



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, King Creativity (mentioned), Mentions of the split, Other Sides (mentioned) - Freeform, Remus mention, Thomas (mentioned) - Freeform, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, self-deprecation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 23:28:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20299702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: [Post–Episode: “Dealing with Intrusive Thoughts”]“Roman would always take the time to admire the arrangement of a melody, but unfortunately, that wasn’t a normal day.Because his mind was wrapped up around past events. The headache from the hit, the weird song, the green– It was all too much.”Roman finds himself listening to Deceit playing a piano song, and thoughts and memories are brought to the surface.





	I can remember a song

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by the songs “Love the way you lie (by Eminem and Rihanna)” and “It’s raining somewhere else (Lyric cover by Djsmell and Kathy-chan). The story is available on Tumblr (Katherine-Reed).
> 
> (If I forgot any warnings, please tell me!)
> 
> *Deceit can be read as sympathetic or/and unsympathetic/manipulative (or even morally grey). It depends on how you’ll see him through Roman’s narrative.  
*This story can be read as one-sided or platonic/romantic Roceit if you want to; all of them pre-relationship.

Roman always loved music. The way that some small sounds could piece together, forming something more, something whole, something beautiful. So many combinations being possible, so many notes and tones, a cacophony that would make sense without making sense.

Every music had its singularity, and he loved discovering all of them, one by one. He thought about Logan and his love of Astronomy, and he could quite feel like him.

(He knows that Logan could never be like him for a least a second, though – not really, at least.)

Roman would always take the time to admire the arrangement of a melody, but unfortunately, that wasn’t a normal day.

Because his mind was wrapped up around past events. The headache from the hit, the weird song, the green– It was all too much. Everything was spinning inside him and he felt sick without wanting to throw up.

The piano inside the theatre was being played, but Roman couldn’t quite hear it right.

But he could see it, perfectly.

The yellow touching the white with rhythm, calm and collected, and the sound as making Roman feel like entering a tub with hot water, diving in and letting his body melt against the hot water, even if the sound seemed muffed and so far away from where he was, to a point that he couldn’t know what he was listening to.

(He does, actually – he knows that he can’t mistake it, but he pretends.)

Roman watched quietly from the last seat, standing still and closing his eyes, letting everything sinks in – and it was so much that he thought that he could drown.

He knows this song, from a long time ago, and that stings inside. A time when things were easier, Thomas’ problems were less hurtful and everything that he would do was create.

Because create would keep his mind off the past, his brother and _something else_.

Now, Thomas was an adult. He was an adult too, and working to death like Logan wouldn’t work. Burying his feelings like Patton wouldn’t work. Panic like Virgil wouldn’t work.

And now with his brother there, so much closer, bringing _things_ back at him like a wrecking ball hitting a wall, create until he would pass out wouldn’t work anymore.

Right, wrong. Truth, lies. Dark, Light–

_Nonsense_. _Every single one of them._

Because he knew that none of it mattered back then. He has fragments of it – his auditions with Deceit, Logan and Virgil’s debates about the universe and fears and other stuff that Roman didn’t care enough.

There are fragments of Patton with someone. It wasn’t him, neither Remus. Something else, like them, but not quite.

Thomas never seemed to need two Creativities.

And it hurts. Because he could never understand why it happened.

They would tell him that everything was going to be okay, that it was necessary, that it was for Thomas’ sake–

When they repeated that again, while Roman watched his brother and Virgil walk away, going somewhere else, forgotten in the back of Thomas’ mind, it clicked what that discourse was.

_Lies._

But soon his realization is over when the music is too. He opens his eyes – Roman isn’t aware of the tears yet, too many things in his head that he barely feels his body – and he’s there, standing in the middle of the stage, looking at him. His main problem, standing there, not moving, not looking away.

Roman can’t see Deceit’s face, but it doesn’t really matter for him.

His legs are moving forward, but Roman’s mind is spinning with doubt so much that he can barely know what he’s doing.

Because the man that he’s approaching is a Dark Side now. Something that he branded himself. Because that man is not the same as before, and Roman can’t recognize a single thing about the young teenager that was eager about theatre and music. Because that man was the reason that everything happened hours before, and he can’t even start to imagine a reason, to imagine what could justify the presence of– his presence there.

As Roman steps closer, entering the stage, he sees that Deceit is prepared for the hit. He’s prepared to be punched, screamed at, treated like some sort of monstrosity or horrible person – that he knows that he is, at least to some extent.

But he can catch the slip second were his eyes widen up, the “I’m unreachable”, facade falling, not prepared for that specific thing. And to be honest, Roman wasn’t prepared either.

He didn’t let go of him, though, arms wrapped around the body covered by the black and yellow suit – the same from that weird courtroom day –, hands gripping tightly at the fabric.

“Roman—”

Deceit chokes out, and he can’t even put his mind to a place where he could try to hear the way that the other’s voice broke. Green and red and now yellow still taking over of his thoughts, making his headache worse.

There’s still something left there, at the moment, letting him as a barely functional metaphysical human being.

“Please, I just— I need everything back. Like before—” Roman’s tone is a mix of a sob with something else, and he doesn’t know if Deceit can understand him when he manages to choke out, with a gasp, “I want— Need my friend back— Please.”

There’s a stillness at the moment that makes Roman feels like he’s going to pass out. Everything is too loud inside his mind, but then everything just… Stops.

Arms are circling him now, keeping him. It’s not even close to the strength that he’s gripping the black suit, but it’s still firm, calm, collected – like fingers playing the piano.

Then there’s a whisper in his right ear. “I’m here, Roman.”

Roman knows that Deceit lies, because he doesn’t hide it in his tone.

But he is Thomas’ ego and pride, and for now, he just lets everything go.

He allows himself to drown again, but in different waters.

Because lies won’t hurt like his thoughts or his past, as long as he keeps it. Occasionally, he can go and face the truth when he’s ready.

(He knows what it’ll never happen, but he pretends again. This time, Deceit helps.)


End file.
